Montana

With our empty wine glasses in hand, Kurt and I join the others in the kitchen, Denali, the Malamute, trotting behind us.

“Let me give Montana a tour, then we can meet on the rooftop,” Carson suggests to his parents.

“So, this is the kitchen.” He swings his arms wide.

I’m already very familiar with this open space, with the large island with seating for five, and the bar area to the side, near the floor-to-ceiling glass doors, leading ...